Friday, April 13, 2012

Nolix%Uul [Unplayed]

Game: Nolix%Uul
Type: LARP
Author: Tom Kelly
Date: 5/09

Teaser:
“Wisidang! We’re going to crash!”
Wind rushed along the deck of the Thundervoip, making the wings ripple. Captain Wisidang stood at the wheel, shunting the wind around himself by blowing air from his mouth.
The verdant ground of Uul was rapidly coming closer, but Wisidang wasn’t looking at it. He was staring at his rival, Skiks the Kid, Captain of the Stormshine. She was holding onto the wheel of her ship, staring back.
First Mate Ginnels yelled again: “We should pull up!”
“Not until Kid does!” Wisidang replied. “Tell crew they can parachute out if they don’t have the guts!”
“They already did!”
“Good thing I’ve still got you, then, Ginnels! That’s why you’re my First Mate; you’re reliable!”
“Actually, I’m abandoning ship!” Ginnels called from the side of the ship, “Good luck!”
Grumbling, Wisidang continued to stare at Kid’s purple eyes. They got closer, closer, closer…
“You’d better turn your ship up!” Kid yelled. “’Cause I’m not gonna!”
“I’m not going to either!” Wisidang retorted.
“Then I guess we’re gonna crash!”
A large vine snapped around the Thundervoip; they'd gone through the canopy.
“Maybe if we both turned up at once?!”
“Okay!” In unison, they turned their wheels.
Nothing happened.
"Crud!" yelled Kid. "Our powerers jumped off! We can't st-"
The ships converged, hulls splintering. The magic-motion converters collided, and exploded. The Stormshine and the Thundervoip burned as one wreck.
But the captains were already airborne. Wisidang spun his arms, telling the wind to soften his fall. Kid landed next to him.
They stood there, silently, watching their ships crackle and smoke, was the fire spread slowly into the jungle, sputtering against the moisture. Slowly, they turned to look each other in the eye.
“Last one to set foot on Nolix…” Wisidang trailed off.
“…is a melted cannon! Seeya there!” Kid said, and leaped off.
“Not if I get there first!” yelled Wisidang, flailing his arms. The wind punched him forward.


Daku trudged up the slope, apprehensive about what he was about to do. The sun glared down at him, drying his tears and mocking his grief.
“Fucking sun.” he commented.
His bamboo armor, made by him on the road, clinked against itself. For once, he found it annoying rather than musical.
Not that he cared much. His armor was probably about to be eaten by demons, anyway. His soul, too, if he really had one. He probably didn’t. A soul would’ve stopped him from doing what he’d done.
“Zel dammit…” he muttered. “In fact, damn Zel too, the bastard.” He looked up at the sky. “Hear that, Zel? I said you’re a bastard. All that power and you don’t bother to save your own followers…”
His heart wasn’t in it, though. He knew this wasn’t Zel’s doing, even if he existed. No, Daku himself was to blame for what he’d done. What a surprise.
But he wasn’t going to mope about it, and he wasn’t going to get over it either. He had a much better idea.
He was going to kick down the door of impossibility, send fate spiraling into chaos, and stab death in the face.
He came to the top of the slop, and saw a circle, suspended in the air. Through it, he saw a jungle, with trees unlike any he’d seen on Nolix.
“Yeah, that’ll be it,” he said. “Akali, here I come.”
He charged, jumping through the portal.

Character
:

“There is something you must understand about evil,” the priest explained to the congregation. “It is easy for us to dismiss bandits and criminals as ‘evil,’ stripping them of their humanity. But they are no more evil than us. Just as we are victims of their actions, they are victims of evil itself. It seizes them, and forces them to act against their senses of right and wrong. Evil is not something we can be, but something we can do. No one is truely evil.”
“I am.” said a gravelly voice from near the front of the church. There was a chorus of shocked gasps, and every head turned to the man who had said those words. He jumped up, stepped on the head of the woman sitting in front of him, and leaped at the priest, who screamed as the man frenetically stabbed him in the chest with a serrated knife.
More murderers popped out of the congregation, whipping out concealed weapons. The congregation panicked, rushing for the exists, fighting with their bare hands, hiding under the pews, crying in anguish and pain, sitting paralyzed with fear and disbelief, dying.
Standing on the bloody remains of the priest, Quab shouted over the din. “I dedicate this carnage to living Ozer who, in his frozen tomb at the floor of the world, feasts on the sins of humanity!”


%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%


You’re Mizelane, harbinger of entropy, cultist of Ozer. You are a human.

You were raised in an orphanage in one of the poorest districts in the city of Aelis, where you saw crime, desperation, and oppression at the hands of the Zelist prefects.

It was there that you discovered your power: You could make things die faster. Throughout your adolescence, it helped you survive on the streets.

That is, until a prefect caught you. You were imprisoned, and tortured. The prefects wanted you to confess to having consorted with demons to get your power, which you hadn’t. One night, lying in your cell, you had a fervid dream:

You were walking across a field of screaming faces, ripping at your soul with their tortured voices. They were silent only when you stepped on them. In the distance, you saw a mountain, stretching up higher than you could see. You climbed the mountain for what seemed like an eternity, until you reached the top. Standing on the peak, you were surrounded by true non-existence.

It was peaceful. You awoke with a dark enlightenment: You saw that the world was a twisted, malevolent place, that disguises suffering and tragedy as pleasure and happiness. The only true serenity shall be in the icy void that the universe will become. You plan to do your part in ushering the world into oblivion.

The prefects kicked you out to make room for more prisoners. You walked the streets, euthanizing prisoners of existence. One night, a pair of prefects cornered you in an alley. As you grappled with one of them, the other shot at you with a crossbow, and missed, hitting his partner.

You looked at the prefect who had fired the crossbow, and beckoned to him. He saw the peace of the void in your eyes, and followed you. You learned that his name was Hiles, and you left Aelis with him. Ironically, you joined a group that spreads pain throughout the world: A Cult of Ozer, recently named the Burning Wolves. Given their predilection for happy murder, you’re confident that they’ll help quench the flame of life.

The Burning Wolves are led by Low Priest Quab, a man with a heart as black as the void. You wander the plains, burning down churches and slaughtering villages.

Needless to say, you've made an abundance of enemies: The Knights of Zel are always hunting you, and the Anti-Zelist Rebels, still bound by their pitiful morals, get into constant skirmishes with the Ozerists.

The Family of Orphans, a gang of rebels led by a former Zelist knight named Klamava, have become rivals to the Burning Wolves.

Yesterday, the Wolves and the Family entered the same village. Instead of fighting there, they agreed to a rumble in the hills to the north.


How Game Went: So, again, I didn't get to play this game. I didn't even hear about how it went, really. But I did get to play the character the following season! Also, it was a pretty sweet character sheet.

Also, the Survey: (Because it's worth posting)

Nolix%Uul Survey

Name?!
Age?!
Number of bootlegs/tavern scenes played?!
Other roleplaying/acting experience?!

Are you comfortable/interested in playing a character with psychological problems? And if I give you such a character, will you be able to get out of character safely?

Do you want to skip the rest of these shenanigans and just let me cast you as whoever I want to?

(If yes:) Are you sure?

(If no:) Then let the shenanigans commence! Here's some persona-type-things. Indicate which ones appeal to you.

  • Hero
  • Outcast
  • Kid
  • Knight
  • Bandit
  • Angel
  • Demon
  • Soldier
  • Lover
  • Cultist
  • Leader
  • Rebel
  • Wizard
  • Rogue
  • Blademaster
  • Slut
  • Ghost
  • Rockstar
  • Priest
  • Secret-Agent
  • Explorer
  • Sky-Sailor
  • Zealot


What's your favorite kind of…

  • Bread?
  • Cheese?
  • Meat or lack thereof?

Yes or no to…

  • Tomato?
  • Mustard?
  • Mayonnaise?
  • Lettuce? (The only acceptable answer is yes)
  • Pickles?
  • Avocado?
Anything else you think I should know?

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Four Point Five [Unplayed]

Game: Four Point Five: The Battle of Jaramounte
Type: LARP
Authors: Jenna Brotsky
Date: 3/09

Teaser:
"Happy Birthday Gertrude!" read the pink and purple banner hung over the doorway. It was complimented well by the balloons of the same colors in the yard. Even the flowers lining the walk up to the door were in tune with the decorations. The house itself was a creamy brown color, with an off-white trim. It was pretty. It was perfect.

It was all on fire.

If the inhabitants of the house had tried to get out of the blaze, they would have been stopped, either by the piles of cinderblocks holding all the doors closed, the three sets of locks added to the windows, or the gigantic circle drawn on the surrounding land, which was making a shimmering, solid barrier of magic. Nothing alive could get in or out of the barricade.

But no one was trying to get out. They were all frozen in time, just as they'd been when the fire was set. A little girl was perpetually blowing out her birthday candles while her guests were forever watching.

The arsonist ambled away from the house, admiring his handiwork. There were maybe twenty people there, watching Gertrude Gutenberg turn twelve. She would never get to thirteen. But the arsonist couldn't have cared less about Gertrude's birthday. He cared about one of the guests: Freiderich Gutenberg. Patriarch, pacifist, obstacle. Well, no more.

At last, the arsonist reached the stylish, dark grey Jaguar, parked just outside the boundaries of the magical wall. A tall man, he reached way, way down to open the passenger door and slipped inside.

"They're frozen?" the driver questioned, his voice and body both quaking. His expensive silk shirt was soaked with perspiration. "I mean, there's no screaming, so…"

The arsonist sighed heavily. "Yes, Baron. They're frozen. That was the point of carrying this out myself, rather than using one of our allies."

"But… it was a birthday. She's a little girl!" the man called Baron cried, horrified past masking any emotion.

"I don't care," the arsonist replied in a steely tone. "Freiderich is dead, isn't he? No one else matters."

"B-but Tercion—"

"Baron!" Tercion snapped, "I am sick and tired of your childish antics. Now drive. I've got my dinner at the Rights Leader's house, and I'm not missing a meal in my honor because you can't keep enemies differentiated from, oh, I don't know, people we care in the slightest about."

The driver bowed his head, and turned the key in the ignition. There was no fighting with Tercion when he was in this mood. Except… it was a birthday party… "Cousin, was there any other way to—"

"Baron. Shut. Up. Now. Just drive."

God, the look in Tercion's eyes, like a wild animal. "Okay, okay…" he cousin consented. The Jaguar rolled away from the conflagration with only a final, mournful glance from Baron. About three blocks away, the time freeze wore off, and the few who had yet to be burned to death screamed in agony for their last few moments of life.

The next morning, several dozen miles away, a man who had missed the party hung up his phone. There were tears drying in his eyes, but otherwise he seemed elated.

"Good news," he announced to his second in command, with what could have been either a grin or a grimace. "Freiderich is gone. Dead. Burned up, most likely by General Tercion. Remains of Temporarium on them, probably frozen before they were set on fire."

"That's good news?" the second in command gasped. "Mitcham! He's your… He's our cousin! And he's dead!"

A bizarre, nearly mirthless little laugh bubbled up in Mitcham's throat. "I know. He's gone. It's sad. But you don't understand. If Freiderich is gone, who's in charge of the family?"

His companion frowned. "Shouldn't it be Viola?"

"Not for long. Not when everybody hears about this. No, she's not going to be able to keep up this pacifism stunt when her brother and some-teen other members of the clan are dead." The leader leaned back, wiped his eyes, and truly smiled. "Finally," he whispered. "I have the power. Let's make this feud a war."

World Background:
Excerpt: Beginning Magi-Structural Studies edition 3 (published 2241 CE)

We humans of Earth have long considered ourselves the only certain intelligent life in our universe. Whether we are or not, however, is not a current concern. What is far more significant an issue in our times is that there are intelligent forms of life in other universes. Over the last 136 years, we have encountered a wide variety of sentient, intelligent beings from our sister universes, or “dimensions.”

In 2105, we discovered that our dimension was the fourth in a set of ten. These ten universes are arranged as if in a chain, coming down form a master dimension, “The Motherlode” or “One,” from which all power and energy in all chains of universes springs. Our chain is called Guardesia (Gwahr-day-see-uh), and it is only one of many. We do not know the chain settled next to ours, but the placement of universes in it differs from ours. While the planet Earth is in Guardesia’s 4, our neighbor’s 4 is offset from ours; we call it 4.5 (perhaps a self-centered term, but it has caught on).

The reason modern science gives us for there being multiple universes and chains of universes is that the energy in each dimension is different. Chains are universes with similar energies, in various concentrations. As you go down a chain, from Universe 1 down to Universe 2, say, it requires less life energy to live in a dimension. Thus, when a being from Universe 1 “drops” to Universe 2, they have excess energy, which can be channeled into what we call magic. The more universes one drops, the more magic one accrues. This is also true if one switches chains; for instance, by going from Universe 4 to Universe 4.5 (which, though also a 4 dimension, is below ours on a chain map and requires less energy than 4) a human from Earth gains magic. We discovered this when we first emigrated to Jarnesinja, the main planet in 4.5.

Now if one knows where the doors between dimensions in one chain are, it’s easy to go down the chain. (One can, of course, never go up, because beings from each universe have exactly the amount of energy required to live in that universe; going up, one wouldn’t have enough energy, and would die faster than instantly.) But going between chains is a little trickier: it requires what is called a “cheat hole,” or a warped portal between the chains. The hole connecting 4 and 4.5 happens to be hovering over Earth’s Austria. In 2105, our technology became advanced enough to find it, and emigration began. Emigrant numbers upped significantly during and after World War III, and now the human population in 4.5 is nearing sixteen thousand. But we are, of course, not the only ones there. Beings from our chain’s 2nd universe, the Elcarin, had already colonized Jarnesinja when we arrived; the original inhabitants seemed to have died out. The Elcarin, having dropped two and half dimensions, are massively powerful. They allowed us to live on Jarnesinja under a few conditions, one of them being no war. WE have upheld this promise so far, but it looks like a civil war is brewing in the Jarnesinjan country of Allecour. We can only hope the storm does not break.

Excerpt: Intro to Modern Allecoursi History, 2200-2270 (published 2273 CE)

As is commonly know, post-World War III, during the immigration rush to 4.5, while governments were being built, rebuilt, continued or dissolved entirely, it was clans that became the true centers of loyalty and power. This was less true in the New World, but clans still carry weight in 4.5, as is being exemplified by the feud-turned-war between the Valmonts and the Gutenbergs. Everyone knows of this warfare (and has some vague idea of how it’s managing to obey the Human-Elcarin Treaties with such huge casualty numbers), but it should still be explained how this fighting came to be.

When we arrived in 4.5, everyone got the magic associated with dimensional drop due to the misalignment in the chains. But one British family, the Valmonts, received a special power: Temporarium, limited control over time. Through bloody ritual, a second level of Temporarium can be achieved: Spatio-Temporarium, with which one can create a tiny dimension over which the creator has total control.

The Valmont family used this power to take over two countries, Allecour and Halii. The Valmonts have grown enormously in numbers (almost entirely through incest) and have become a pseudo-royal clan, exempt from the laws that apply to non-Valmonts, what they call “Commons.”

After a few decades of Valmont reign, a new family arrived in 4.5: the Gutenbergs. This German clan found themselves the possessors of a second special power: Cambiatorum, limited ability to change the laws of physics. The Valmonts were furious and terrified, and resolved to run the Gutenbergs out of their new home here in Allecour. But the Gutenberg patriarch, Dieter, and a number of well-connected anti-Valmont allies stood strong. For some time, the Gutenbergs used peaceful protest under Dieter and his children, twins Viola and Freiderich. The Valmonts tried everything they could to heat the feud up to a war, lead by Commander Alora Valmont. The Valmonts even got allies, an American clan called the Ayers. A few years ago, the Valmonts brought in a new, young, brilliant, and terrifying general: Tercion Valmont.

In 2267, General Tercion killed Freiderich Gutenberg, prompting Mitcham Gutenberg to edge Viola out as patriarch. He’s since gained two important ally clans, willing to fight: the Browns, mercenaries who practice a harsh religions native to 4.5 called Frialla, and the Garcias, Puerto Rican immigrants who’ve produced General Julio Garcia, who at 16 had been international chess champion for 8 consecutive years on Earth.

In 2269, the next heir to the Valmont throne was born. The Battle of Jaramounte, fought on March 21st of that year, was the first battle after his birth. Everyone was excited for the battle, but no one expected it to turn out quite as it did…

(Blogger's note: That was a shortened world background that was sent out to us. You don't even want to see the world backgrounds on her game submissions, before she pares them down.)

Group Background: The Browns, Chosen People of The Lady, Prophet and Goddess Mizanote Altore

The Brown family originally emigrated from Zealand Station on Earth. ZS is a space station hovering some fifty miles over New Zealand, shaped exactly like New Zealand. When the aboriginal New Zealanders took back their land in the late 2000s, along with a number of other ex-colonies, the non-aboriginal kiwis built Zealand Station; the same thing happened in Australia and theirs is called Aussie Station. ZS is an interesting place: its economy is sound, it survived World War III easily as a neutral nation (aided by the fact the whole population evacuated to 4.5 during a particularly terrible stretch of warfare); everyone there is perfectly healthy… but it’s boring. There is none of New Zealand’s beautiful scenery, though some of it can be found replicated in holographic chambers on the station. The people there are living on bread alone, no circus. So a number of interesting trends find an audience in ZS, one of them being the native religion of 4.5, Frialla. The Brown family are some of the Stationers who converted to it.

Frialla calls itself monotheism, though it has numerous demi-gods and additional supernatural beings. It’s mostly built around Mizanote Altore, a woman who was a member of the Dakai race (4.5’s original inhabitants, all of whom are either extinct or have vanished into other dimenions). To be precise, she was Penshi-dakai; there are four dakai tribes: Penshi, Kuro, Mudai and Naburometo. According to Friallan tradition, Miza was a prophet, a goddess, and a savior. She is called the Lady by her faithful. She is said to have risen from poverty and become the key to her home empire’s success; she overwhelmed countless enemies, most famously the warrior-prince Jeriadon Vergant. She is aided mostly by her two supernatural friends: Yasprev the All-Seeing Snake and Lamorene, the Dread Wolf. The Lady Miza is the center of all Frialla, and her teachings were… well, not exactly moral by most Earth standards. They include putting pride before honor, putting success in business or a cause before personal happiness, and having respect for those higher than you on the social ladder, especially employers. The Friallan Bible is full of lines like, “which is better: to attack an enemy to his face, so that all can see his pride extinguished… or to murder him, quickly and quietly, from a vantage point unseen, so that there is no pride lost in his death?” And no, none of the commandments are “thou shalt not kill.” Miza encourages killing those who are in the wrong by her laws.

Now the Brown family all converted to Frialla a generation back, lead by Laney Brown, mother of Grenade and Anya Brown. They moved to 4.5, to the Friallan colonies. These colonies are little communes way out in the countryside far from Allecour; the one the Browns reside in is called Baragabrok. There’s lots of nature, a completely Friallan education system, and it’s very peaceful, very quiet… except for the hundred and fifty Friallans using the shooting range, prepping themselves as their Lady’s holy army under Her direction. Literally. Six months before game, the Lady Miza came down from heaven to address her devotees, flanked by Yasprev and Lamorene. Mitcham Gutenberg had hired the Browns to fight as assassins in the war with the Valmonts and to help in the battles two years earlier. And Lady Miza told the Browns that she was pleased with their taking this job, because allied to the Valmonts were the Catholic Ayers. As members of an opposing, powerful faith, the Ayers were mortal enemies of Frialla and should be destroyed. The Lady also said an opportunity to increase Frialla’s power was coming, and it did the next day when General Tercion Valmont came out to Baragabrok, and offered to pay the Browns to help him take over the entire planet. He had a plan to give Mitcham Gutenberg Temporarium, and form an alliance. Miza agreed to some kind of terms with him, and told the Browns to take the job. Over the last half a year, they have been doing Her work and his. And now General Tercion has said that it is time for his plan to come to fruition. At the Battle of Jaramounte, the Lady’s work will be done, and the True Church will inherit the world it began in.

Character: Anyagadore “Anya” Brown

Anyagadore (Ahn-yah-gah-doh-re)— means “strong flower” in Kurodakai; used as a metaphor in the Friallan Bible for the noble Juniessia, an early convert to Frialla

Brown— Brown haired or brown skinned. Brown was derived from complexion, color of hair, or garments, and is consequently a very common surname. Includes a number of derivatives in many countries.

Anya has never known what it’s like to not be Friallan, and she doesn’t want to. Her mother, Laney, got the whole clan into the Friallan Church and moved them to 4.5. Anya has been living in the colony of Baragabrok her entire life; she was pulled out at age eighteen to start fighting for the Gutenbergs, and she wanted to go back almost immediately. Her homesickness decreased when her Lady Mizanote Altore appeared and assured Anya that she was doing the right thing by fighting in the non-believer lands. Miza singled out Anya by commending her bravado in battle, and Anya just about died of joy. Anyagadore has always been extremely devout; she wants to become a priestess now that she’s old enough. She’s actually 24 years old, and so has been of age for three years, but her participation in the war deferred her dream. Anya’s opinion on the war is that it’s been wasting her time; but now that her Lady Miza has come down and has given her a new purpose in fighting, she’s stopped complaining completely.

Anya is especially close with her older brother Grenade, and her second cousin Daniel, who shares her extreme passion for Frialla. But Anya is a little more… vicious in nature than either Daniel or Grenade, and she’s generally seen as crazier than they are, too. Sometimes she gets lost in the heat of battle, and last year she broke a Valmont’s arm in three places. But Anya isn’t usually overtly brutal; normally her “craziness” takes the form of a general disregard for other people’s feelings. In this respect, she’s much like her cousin Marissa. Except that Anya can understand what other people are feeling… she just chooses not to. After all, everything in this life and the next are what the Lady Miza wills them to be. Perhaps people should stop fucking complaining if the Lady Miza wills them to hurt by Her loyal servant. In the Bible, did Jeriadon Vergant get to whine to Mitcham Gutenberg when the Dread Wolf Lamorene decapitated him? No? Well then, why should Terrell Gutenberg get to when Anya steps on his foot? He shouldn’t! And people should understand that. Anya knows her orders and impulses are coming from the highest of all possible sources, and she carries them out proudly and without regret.

How Game Went: Sadly, I never got to play this wacky game, as it was postponed a week due to rain, and I was unable to attend the following week. The character was still played by a friend of mine, however, and I am assured she did her justice. As for the game, Tercion was horrible, other people had a lot of conflict, and there was a big battle at the end. All as it should be!

Monday, January 30, 2012

EVI

Game: The Eukaryote Valley Incident
Type: LARP
Authors: Roy Norvell and Quinn Milton
Date: 2/09

Teaser:
Opening connection to v.5.beta-43

Case designation GDT327EVI codename: [Eukaryote Valley Incident]

8/8/034

…………………………………………………………………….

ACCESS AUTHORIZED

AGN.ntwrk//UNIdefensesystems.

GDT327EVI.CSE4open

USERfile: [Interview with Ryan Andrew Silverton]

……………………………………………………………………

Wh-where am I? Who are you?

You do not have the liberty to ask questions at this juncture, Mr. Silverton. I do.


How do you know my name?

We know everything about you, Silverton. We know your blood type, your medical history, how many nose hairs you have, your first kiss—Delilah.


What? How did you—

That's not important right now, Mr. Silverton. I need you to answer a few simple questions. We're all trying to help you here. But what we don't know is what happened on February 21, ground zero of the Eukaryote Valley Incident.

… Are you with the CIA?

We have been granted full jurisdiction over this case. Now if you could just answer a few questions. What happened that day?…Please.


Okay, Jesus, but can you turn down that light a bit? It's too bright. -sighs- It was a normal day. Friday, I think. The kids were supposed to go over to their mothers, but I insisted that they stay… dear god, if I hadn't, they might still be [sobs]… [pause, clears throat] We were all at the dinner table. Nothing seemed… strange… until the dog started barking. He got all fidgety, but I thought he was just anxious so I let him out.

And then?

It was a little while later, an hour or so, and then Suzie, my youngest, heard something outside the window. I went up to look, and then something flew through the glass and landed on the table. It was… Jesus Christ, it was my dog, covered in blood, and he was ripped up… and that was when [sobs, muttering] They came through the open window, and they—and they took my darlings! [crying]

Go on. I know this must be hard for you.

[sniff] I grabbed my shotgun and I tried to keep them off. I must have shot this one a dozen times but it didn't do a thing! And then I ran… god strike me down where I stand, I ran like the coward that I am… [incoherent]

What did you do then?

I met up with some other folks who had heard all the ruckus and we laid low in one of the barns. Those things must have taken out a quarter of our whole village that night. They were smart too. They took out our phone lines and power, leaving us stranded. We sent out a few men to find some help, but they never came back.

What did these creatures look like?

God, I can't call them human but they looked like they might have been, once. They were horribly disfigured, each one of them twisted and demented… some had scales, and some with long claws. One even had frost covering his skin… they haunt my nightmares, even to this day. How could something human become that? What could have possibly happened to them… well, when we went into the mountain, we found out.

Thank you. You have been very helpful. Your cooperation will not go unnoticed.

I just want to forget about it all, you know?

Indeed I do, Mr. Silverton. Now, if you would please look into this red light…

What is—

[static]

…………………………………………………………………

FILECORRUPTED//cancel5664-nwrt

:error-877.vt.343:

ATTEMPT SYNC

:ERROR-060.rt.148:

TRANSMISSION CANCELED

session terminated

World Background: The World in 2034 is much like it has been for the last three decades. War has consumed most of the globe and all major economies, global warming has ski-rocketed along with the price for "friendly-energy" vehicles, the CIA is corrupt and America is still the big bully on the playground. In 2029 we reached the next final frontier—Mars—and have been growing greenhouses there for the past five years. Major scientific breakthroughs, including the prevention of cancer, have caused the funding for education and science facilities to go through the roofs. In 2030, Congress deemed genetic engineering and stem cell research constitutional. This enraged many active Catholics, and has sparked a lot more controversy… but their protests have widely been ignored. There was one thing that surprised a lot of historians. In the last decade, agriculture has expanded over the states. More and more area has been bought for farmland, due to the fall of major fast-food companies. One of these bountiful farmlands is that of Eukaryote Valley.

Eukaryote Valley is mostly crops and farms. There is a small town at the base of the mountain, but besides that there isn't civilization for miles. The mountain is hollowed out, and inside is the country's largest science-research facility. The base has all of the latest technology and is where most of the USA's secret experiments are taking place. If you don't know where the entrance is to the mountain, you will never find it. The place is so secure that an atomic bomb could be dropped on it, but the labs would still remain intact. Most of the scientists who work in the mountain live in the small village.

Recently a few people who live at the edge of town have gone missing, and so the mayor has called a town meeting in order to address some of the questions around this. That was when the Eukaryote Valley Incident began. The unlucky survivors were all placed in an asylum. Some of them wouldn't stop screaming about the nightmares. Others simply sat in their rooms in silence for the rest of their lives. When the Red Cross came to the Valley, they reported that a number of villagers and scientists were [CLASSIFIED] and, to everyone's shock, cancerous. As for the base, the science labs had been destroyed. Hardly any evidence remained as to what exactly happened on February 21st, 2034, at ground zero of the Eukaryote Valley Incidence

Group Background: Mutants:
[CLASSIFIED FILE: RESTRICTED ACCESS]

PASSWORD INPUT REQUIRED [***********]
FINGERPRINT VERIFICATION IN PROGRESS
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-
ACCESS GRANTED
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This report contains irrefutable evidence noting the existence of biologically-altered humans. It is this group of mutants that is believed to be the perpetrators behind the Eukaryote Valley Incident. Upon further research and interrogation of a subject captured at ground zero, our sources learned that these mutants were a result of a project run by Helix Labs 2 years previous to the Eukaryote Valley Incident. Reports confirm that this project was similar to the BioUpgrades being developed by the company at the time of the incident. Our agents in the field have reason to believe that the mutated humans present during the Incident were acting with a vengeful motivation. All mutants reported on or acquired have been extensively altered, and possess powerful biological abilities.

Characters: Amanda Clarke
You are the head chef at the local at the Olive Garden, but you really hate it there. You want your own restaurant. You are currently in a committed relationship with one of the scientists in Helix Labs, (Benjy).

OTHER SECRET CHARACTER– Haze
When you were a normal human, you suffered with a terminal disease most of your life. At a young age you were on your deathbed. In a last ditch effort to save yourself, you volunteered for an experimental program for human enhancement at Helix labs. The experiment went horribly wrong, and you were mutated out of control. You lost your sanity, but gained something else—the power to emit and control sleep and toxic vapors. Ever since that fateful day you have been running around with a pack of mutants, lead by Uriel.

How Game Went: Oh man. Oh man, you guys. Oh man. So yeah, I, uh... I enjoyed this game a lot. This was one of my first times not only as big bad, but as someone with free reign to go a little murdery... So, yeah. I'm going to link to a video recording of the game, so I'll just go over the bits after my scripted death. Another mutant and I basically ran around, tormenting people, and catching one or two of them alone a few times. (I'm afraid I murdered Flam a couple times as we were kind of near Re.) Then we went on to the main plot, which was something about terrifying the scientists (one of whom was Uriel's twin, Ariel) into setting up a huge thing to destroy us or turn everyone else into mutants (I was never quite sure which). While the terrifying people was fun, game was over a lot sooner than people expected, and my friend and I had been holding back on killing so that we didn't unnecessarily deplete the PC teams. All in all, though, I had a lot of fun toying with people and killing them ruthlessly!

Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qR6PENAgdoE

Friday, December 2, 2011

No Murder

Game: No Murder, Please, We're British
Type: LARP (Tavern scene)
Author: Quinn Milton
Date: 1/2009

Teaser: Dear most prominent, pretentious, and preposterously prosperous person,

It is with pleasure that we invite you to a party of most impressive proportions, an invitation presented to only the most prestigiously wealthy lords of His Prince's England. We have prepared only the most perfect platters for you to partake. If you think this alliteration is good, you should try our imported truffles! HAHAHA. But really, each piece is packaged in panther skins so as to preserve its pungent flavor.

So, preferred patron, please join us on the 24th of January for a positively pleasurable evening of paramount personae and proliferation of only the most preeminent teas.

Preregistration (delivered by post in a prior preceding parcel) is a prerequisite for your presence. Preferably reply as soon as possible.

With profoundest pleasure,

The Prestigious Palace of Lord Abarenthy

World Background: None was really provided, but c'mon. It's Victorian Britain at its most preposterous.

Group Background: Again, none given, most of this was established at game by character development with others; I was a member of the aristocracy, basically.

Author's Note: This is just provided to show what kind of game it was: I have for everyone a brief outline for your character for the tavern scene. This is in no way a complete character, so please develop your character and make them shiny and full of life! There will be plenty of time for character development on the 24th as well. If your character is male, please dress with tophats, nice shirts and fancy pants. If your character is female, please wear girly frills and a skirt or dress. The year is 1919, but feel free to dress up in Victorian style because this is essentially a tea party! Costuming will have some items, but if you can bring your own costuming please do!

Character: Alice-Rose Watson: You are the spoiled, bimbo, pretty, dainty, demanding daughter of Beatrice Watson and Carlson Watson. However… you have a grave secret! You secretly like to drink coffee! You absolutely HATE tea with a passion, but cannot confront anyone about this because they would shun you… You secretly take your parents money and buy some under-the-counter coffee from the TOWN. You never thought you would have to go into the TOWN for anything, since you could get your servants to do it. You have to dress up like a common-person. But coffee is worth it!

How Game Went: While I didn't enjoy it as much as I could have at the time... that was partially my fault. First, other considerations were bothering me, second I wasn't as clear on my survey what kind of character I'd like (I put yes for a lot of the archetypes, and even though I put "no" on bratty kid and bimbo wife, I think the "yes" on snooty mcsnooterson and rich aristocrat carried me over to fill a character written that I didn't really like. No-one's fault but mine), and third, I was caught up in my disappointment at the time. IN RETROSPECT however, it was a good time. There was someone playing an animated lamp, so I got it into my character's head that the lamp was following her, and had a good hissy fit about that.

Oh, right, I should talk about the plot. So, not surprisingly enough, as the patriarch of the family (who was NOT GAY with another very well-dressed guy) got up to give a speech... he toppled over, murdered. To say the least, we were all in a tizzy, and good, old-fashioned investigating went on, somewhat hindered by my uppityness and hysterical shrilling about how we could all be next (even if I don't particularly like a character, I will damn well play it well). Eventually there was a hullabaloo about a vampire living in the basement, and he and his servants dashed off with his coffin right as the detective with the permanent five-o-clock shadow (constantly trailed by another dressed the same, with the same drawn-on five-o-clock shadow playing his inner monologue and making it REALLY HARD for the rest of us not to laugh at what we were supposed to not be able to hear) was giving his conclusions.

Basically, it was a hilarious game. I wish I'd been more experienced, but it's still a fun memory, and I think we should have another game like this at some point. I suppose we can't exactly without the Mansion, but we can try.


Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Epic'd

Game: Epic'd
Type: LARP
Author: Roy Norvell Graham
Date: 11/2008

Teaser: Patrick O'Harrris watched the city glow underneath from behind the dull glass wall of the elevator, rising towards the 36th floor to bring him to his business meeting that might potentially, if he got very, very lucky, bring him a level up on the corporate ladder. He fixed his tie and took a deep breath of the recycled air running through the typical city building. The numbing drone of elevator music existed in the back of his mind, the front of his brain focused on the sweet kids he would come home to late at night, tucked away under their sheets.

Patrick watched the lights beneath each number light up as the elevator steadily glided upward. 22, 23, 24…. It's just sometimes he got sick of it all. The rat race. The
corporate game. All the competition… but little Neil and Anna made it all worthwhile. 26, 27, 28…. The world was messed up, here, it really was. But those little beauties that filled the world seemed to really show it's true colors, Patrick mused.

31, 32, 33… Patrick lifted his briefcase off the elevator floor and checked his watch. Only 3 minutes late, and this presentation would more than make up for those.

34, 35, and finally 36. Patrick stepped out of the elevator and into the marble hallway just as a force beyond all reason struck against the very fabric of reality. The hallway shattered into infinite shards of space- not the stone and paint, but the very existence of the thing. The world morphed into something entirely different, fitting back together like a scattered jigsaw puzzle.

Artpick spread his paint-brushed wings and soared through the skies, sweeping over the gleaming city of the Kingdom. No longer was he madly in love with his wife, Alice- their paths had never crossed. Now the 33 year old angel, his back filled with feathers of every color, perched upon the marble tower looked down on the bright white, beautiful buildings of the Magic Kingdom.

World Background: Sound Recording

Group Background: The Rebellion: For many years, the Magic Kingdom, the current governing power, ruled without question; and for good reason, too! They helped those in need, and acted with the best interests of mankind. They were the greatest ruling power to ever grace the land. But The Scientist has shown you the truth- he has shown you what will happen if the Magic Kingdom is allowed to continue.
As a soldier of the rebellion, you know the reason the world is like this- why unexplainable magic exists, why the laws of the universe are no longer consistent and uniform. Reality is cracked, and if magic continues to be used in the amount that the Kingdom is using it, reality will… break. To be perfectly clear, if magic use is continued, the cracks in reality will grow. Since magic is the bending and breaking of physics, the more it's used, the closer the universe gets to shattering entirely. But not while you still draw breath! The Rebellion has science on its side, and is armed to the teeth with technology such as steamguns, airships, and a select few even use the laws of physics in their most primal form to take down all who stand in your way. You have to stop this, by any means necessary- even if it means tearing down the one thing bettering mankind. The universe is counting on you.

Character: Neri, the Puppeteer- Every army needs a strategist. Satesbain may be the genius in charge of the Rebellion, and Voden might be a great tactical commander, but if it wasn't for you the Rebellion wouldn't be doing half as well as it is now. You're more behind the scenes than Satesbain, who is the face and leader of the Rebellion, or Voden, who is the battle-hardened and acclaimed general, but you are just as influential as either of them.
Your motives are well known throughout the Rebellion, as you don't truly make any effort to hide them. Your strategies often involve the quickest victory with the least number of lives lost- on the Rebellion, in any case. After watching your friends killed by the Magic Kingdom in combat, you lost your pity for them. However, you are warm and kind to your fellow members of the Rebellion.
Over your years facing down the Magic Kingdom over and over, you seem to have developed a kind of rival. Haronnin the Eclipse, the advisor to the High Sorceress and in a similar position to yourself, has engaged your troops many a time with a force of her own. She has often matched you move for move… something you're not used to. You wish to see the Rebellion succeed, but it is also a personal wish to see Haronnin defeated.

How Game Went: I really don't remember much of this game at all. I know we went up to meet the Magic Kingdom, and I tried to suppress hostilities which I guess wasn't supposed to happen... Haronnin and I exchanged a few appraising/"I'll beat you" glances and exchanges, and then there was the magic bomb. It was a cool premise, but it just didn't stick in my mind.



(From left to right: Naroj (possibly), Jyreme, [unknown kid], Voden, Me, Satesbain, assorted others. Faces blurred on those I couldn't contact for permission.)

Caedre

Game: Caedre
Type: LARP
Author: Dominic D'Andrea
Date: 10/2008

Teaser: Lit and heated by cheery but dignified firelight, the room seemed smaller than it actually was. The heavy curtains were drawn firmly shut, denying the white world without and adding to the feeling of cloying closeness within.
Seven or eight men and women perched excitedly on an assortment of couches, sipping wine and arguing.
"No, no, you have it all wrong," one man was saying as he gesticulated wildly with his wine glass. "We need to humor them! As distasteful as it may be, there is no denying their, ahem, abilities. Clearly, we have no choice in the matter! Otherwise we shall all be overrun and murdered in our beds, I shouldn't wonder." He glanced around furtively, as if they were all about to be ambushed that very instant.
Immediately there was an outburst of voices, some expressing hearty agreement, some shouting their disapproval. Finally one voice rose above the chaos, and the others paused to refill their lungs and prepare themselves to resume the outcry.
"They'll kill us all in any case! We should strike first, while we still can; how long do you think until our own people rise up against us? The world is on the edge of disaster, and we sit about twiddling our thumbs! We need to act, decisively, immediately, not attempt to reason with them. Do you hear me? They mean to kill us! It is my opinion — "
But no one quite felt like listening to what his opinion was just then. Having sufficiently regained their breath, everyone launched straight back into proclaiming their own take on the issue at hand, for the most part completely ignoring the people around them or listening only when it pleased them. They talked and talked, right up until breakfast was announced, at which point they hurriedly broke off and rushed off to a warm and elegant meal quite removed from talk of death and politics, as was only civilized.
~~~

Kana lifted her head to the wind, flaring her nostrils slightly. She breathed deeply of the dry air, sifting through the various scents, searching for that taint of metal, sweat, fear. The smell she sought was distinctly out-of-place in this wild land.
Nine people watched her from short distance away, leather packs slung across their shoulders. They all carried weapons, mainly knives, and were watching her intently. The seconds stumbled by. Finally she lowered her head and turned back to the others to answer their unasked question.
"Nothing. I don't smell them."
A tangible ripple of relief spread through the group, and everyone relaxed and turned to their leader, a lean and scarred man with an aura of dignity and power resonating in his every move. He nodded, and immediately the group sprang into action, adjusting pack straps, covering the smoldering remains of last night's fire. In a surprisingly short amount of time, they had erased all evidence of their passing.
The ragged group departed nearly silently, maintaining a steady pace until they had left the site far behind, hurried along their way by nightmarish visions of returning to find their village slaughtered, their homes pillaged and burned to the ground. With each step an anxious knot formed in each of their stomachs, a twisted lump of dread, which could only be relieved by the sight of their home, safe.
It began to snow.



World Background(s):
HELL BACKGROUND

Most demons don’t actually live in Hell anymore. It’s not a very nice place to be — there’s rather too much fighting and disorganization and not enough fun. There’s no central authority to stop them from leaving, so Hell is empty except for some stubborn demonic gangs and the da’Kua (basically the demonic Mafia). Nowadays, most demons prefer to live among humans in secret or stay on the move, often living as mercenaries.
It’s a hazardous occupation. It’s easy to get killed, or caught by the angels. The angels have spy systems and police all over the universe, keeping tabs on demonic criminals. If a demon gets caught, the angelic police tattoo the angelic symbol on a knuckle, starting with the right index finger. Five tattoos and they kill you. The tattoos disappear after precisely one hundred years after they were placed, and cannot be removed or covered (magically or with paint).

Demons are not, as humans and angels seem to think, inherently evil. They are in fact not very different from the angels, except that they are less organized and regulated. Some are cruel, malevolent, or greedy; some are kind, gentle, or generous. They are diverse in everything from looks to behavior. The major difference between demons and angels is that angels grow up being taught to be ‘good’, whereas demons grow up being taught to survive.

HEAVENLY BACKGROUND
The angels are on a massive half-crusade half-inquisition, and they have taken it upon themselves to destroy any planet or civilization they declare unworthy, so the entire population of Caedre is damned in their eyes. There's a glory of angels going to eliminate them. Additionally, an unspoken reason for the war is that Heaven is getting crowded. Heaven is an actual place (technically a dimension), and only angels live there...but since angels rarely die, the population is increasing beyond sustainable limits.

God is no longer actually the political leader, he is a puppet king. There are three Archangels: Casta, Eversio, and Volentes. The power lies in the hands of these three Archangels. In general there is great unrest in Heaven and masses of angels are being drafted into the army, some of whom have never fought within conscious memory.

There is also a Grand Military Commander called Pheonix, who leads the main body of the Angelic Army. The Archangels have sent a glory of angels, headed by Pheonix himself, to reduce the planet to rubble.

Since angels are creatures of the spiritual, their physical bodies are not terribly important. Most of their essence lies on the astral plane. If the body of an angel or demon is killed, s/he comes back as him/herself after a few minutes, often disoriented and with slightly fuzzy memories. The only way to truly kill an angel is by destroying their soul as well as their body, simultaneously; thus, it generally requires two people and quite a lot of strength. Pheonix’s strategies often call for group magical attacks, because in pooling their strength they can maximize their efficiency and effectiveness.

When they are not using combat magic, angels fight mostly with Sendings (with the result that the angels do less physical fighting themselves). Sendings are creatures or beings they create from energy to fight for them. They don't have the capability to disobey their angel’s orders, but they are intelligent and have personalities.


WORLD BACKGROUND: CAEDRE

Caedre is not a very hospitable planet. It's going through an ice age, and everyplace except the equator is getting too cold for comfort. There’s not enough food production anymore due to crop failure, and previous food supplies are shrinking rapidly. Deep-seated racism and squabbles over land, money, resources, and everything else possible to fight over have left the world torn and the land soaked in blood.

Technologically, think early 1700s; for some perspective, things like bifocal glasses, flush toilets, and thermometers have very recently been invented. There is very little metal ore and not enough arable land to truly support development of advanced technology and scientific research. A single country (Sarria) with a government made up of aristocrats and wealthy land-owners controls most of the world, with various less powerful governments of smaller countries owing allegiance and/or tribute to the more powerful country. In the crisis imposed by the ice age, the Sarrian government seized political control of almost the entire world and supposedly has jurisdiction over migration/resources/etc.. However, in reality the Ladarians (any race other than Banai is collectively called ‘Ladarian’) are shifting towards the equator regardless of restrictions and laws against such things. The impending ice age has caused mass immigration towards the equator of the planet in a desperate race for hospitable land, crowding the native Banai out of their land as the Ladarians flee the cold. The Sarrian government is sending a group of ambassadors down to try and negotiate with the Banai.

Around the equator, where the Banai live, the ruling system is pretty much tribal, with a Shaman Council that usually meets every two years to deal with issues ranging across the tribes or to settle intertribal disputes. However, the Shaman Council has set out in order to parley with the Sarrian Ambassadors, taking with them with several hand-picked Banai.

Because of fear of change, experience with bad treatment by Ladarians, and because there just isn't enough food, the Banai are resisting the ent
ry of the Ladarians into their lands. Oftentimes, the Banai are simply overwhelmed by sheer numbers and superior technology and killed or just overrun and treated horribly. However, the Ladarians cannot, as a general rule, do magic, so the Banai have a certain advantage. This is the only real reason the Ladarians haven’t simply elbowed their way in and also why the Sarrians are aiming for a peaceful, albeit unfair, method of assimilation.

Group Background:
The group of demons that you belong to is a band of roving mercenaries, led by Anatorius. Anatorius has been the leader of this little band for ten years. He was second in command to the last leader, Cratha, but Cratha was caught and killed by the da’Kua for owing them money.
You guys go from dimension to dimension in search of jobs. They aren’t always illegal; they don’t always involve fighting. You have done a fair bit of smuggling and carrying messages across dimensions.
However, your most common type of job is assassination, and right now you have a target: the Archangels. Your employer is Pheonix, the angelic commander. He’s offered you, not money, but forgiveness for all previous crimes (and removal of any knuckle tattoos).

Character:

Desynth

You are a tough but caring demon, and very old (although it doesn’t show on your body, of course). You were part of Cratha’s group before any of the current members joined, and you were sad to see him go. You are an almost maternal figure in the group, but that doesn’t mean you’re soft and cuddly. You loathe bullies, and are very strong and quick.
Before you were part of the group, you were part of the da’Kua. A messenger, to be precise. You still have the skill of exact recitation: you can perfectly mimic anybody’s voice, intonation, and wording when you want to. However, you got sick of the constant power games and ran away one night two hundred fifty years ago.
Unfortunately several group members have been killed or caught recently, and things have been going downhill.
Your main friends in the group are Malakyte and Cintus.

(Props to Dom on this, btw. Probably the character I've had that's closest to my personality. ...Except more so now than then... Dom can see into the future! O.O)

Interesting Game Convention(s): Sheep. Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

How Game Went: Unfortunately, the guy who was to play Anatorius, the group leader, didn't show up that day. Which means I got a promotion, of sorts! I think that for my first time playing a rather important character, and my second game, it went fairly well. We walked up, saw the angels tell the people of the planet that they were doomed, and took it from there, some of us trying to deal with the panic, some of us going off to assassinate the archangels. A lot of this is foggy, again, it was a long time ago, but I'm pretty sure we saw that Pheonix was going to kill us, too, and booked it. Lot of stuff I don't remember, but I do remember that near the end, when game should have been called, the gamewriter was too into character to do so (we'd been opening a portal to get the inhabitants of the planet away to somewhere safe). Struggling, I said, "Well, how about that last place we were?"
Malakyte responded, "No, they chased us right through there."
"Hm..."
"How about the planet with the sheep?"
"Okay..." So we took them to the planet with the sheep. The guy who'd been playing Pheonix (and was now recast, as he'd been overcome) decided to show up as a shepherd... who had no concept of a LOT of things (oh Sol, you dork. Sometime I'll have to track all my interactions with him). We asked him if there were any cities around, and he didn't know what those were, and somehow we got into a discussion of if he knew anything, and apparently he'd read some books that he happened to have in his cottage...
It got to the point of us asking what was around and him pointing in a direction and saying, "A very very very very long way that way there're some sheep. A very very very very very very very very very long way that way there's a hill." Finally someone called game.
That ending's since been redlined, but the moral of the story is, if you're the gamewriter, don't get TOO into character. Or have someone else willing to call game? Or... something? Hell if I know. But it was hilarious.
(Also, the posh British guys. If you know what I mean, you know. I don't know how anyone ever kept a straight face around him.)



(From left to right: Cintus, Djanus with the badass axe monster weapon, me with the derp face, and Malakyte with the Mjolnir-weapon.)